


Rewards

by Camfield



Category: Transformers Generation One
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-15
Updated: 2012-03-15
Packaged: 2017-11-01 23:39:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/362569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Camfield/pseuds/Camfield
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From the 50 reasons to have sex post!</p><p>48. To reinforce good behavior</p><p>Also inspired by this prompt - http://tfanonkink.livejournal.com/10462.html?thread=8966366#t8966366</p><p> </p><p>Universe: G1<br/>Rating: nc17<br/>Characters: Sideswipe/Bluestreak<br/>Warnings: Sticky</p>
            </blockquote>





	Rewards

“Oh frag Blue, don’t stop!”

Bluestreak’s powerful leg hydraulics kept him moving in rhythm over Sideswipe’s spike, a smug look adorning his face.

The red warrior’s hands were clasped to Bluestreak’s waist, black fingers clenching spasmodically as the gunner moved, leaving paint streaks that crisscrossed the plating in abstract designs. Sideswipe groaned as Bluestreak slowed the pace to nothing and just ground their pelvic plates together.

“Please… please baby! I’ve been real good, not pranked anyone in almost two days.”

Bluestreak gave a low laugh, settling his hands on the front liner’s shoulders before lifting himself up and sliding down in slow, deliberate movements. He would pause each time they were fully connected in Sideswipe’s lap to circle his hips or shift so the spike slid over a different set of sensor nodes in his valve and the warrior was shuddering from the sensations.

“You have been good, Sides. Better then everyone thought you could be, and why is that again?”

A groan as Bluestreak nipped one of the sensor horns sitting right in front of his mouth.

“You. You’re the reason I’ve been good!”

That low, vibrating chuckle drifted through the room again, the noise punctuated by the soft slap of metal on metal.

“I wonder what Prowl would say if he saw how I’d tamed the Ark’s resident prankster? Wonder what he would do if he knew that a little interfacing got you so riled up you’d promise anything, even stopping your little pranks. Should I tell him Sides?”

Bluestreak could feel the shudder that ran through Sideswipe’s body at the thought of Prowl knowing and shifted, arching his back and flaring his doorwings, undulating his body in a single flowing movement. He could feel the lust darkened optics watching him hungrily, but the hands stayed firmly on his waist where Bluestreak had put them in the beginning. 

His arms rose in graceful lines and his helm rolled to rest against one, mouth open and optics fixed on Sideswipe.

A show, a reward.

Glossa peeked out, wetting lipplates with a deft twist before he snapped denta together in a ‘click’. A purr rumbled from his engine and Bluestreak shifted his knees into a wider stance, the tips of his pedes pressing into the ground for leverage.

“Or maybe it isn’t just the interfacing, is it Sideswipe. Is there another reason you’d like to share? Why I can get you to drop your ‘extra curricular’ activities for more… pleasurable ones?”

He flared his doorwings again, setting them to flutter in a distinctly coquettish way. Sideswipe’s vents audibly stopped, then stuttered back on in heavy draughts of air to cool overheated systems. Black hips jerked upward, a whine rising unbidden from the red twin as optics tracked the movement of Bluestreak’s wing movements. He leaned forward until his mouth was just next to a stubby audial horn.

“Perhaps next time you’d like to watch Prowl and I? Watch as we writhe together in ecstasy, wings alive with movement, with energy, would you be a good boy for that Sides?”

Sideswipe’s optics were flickering, the amount of energy running through the warrior’s frame starting to short out the sensitive equipment. Electricity arched from cables to plating and back, lighting up the dim room in bursts of blue/white light. The grip on Bluestreak’s waist tightened, but the front liner never broke his grip, the gunner’s rules keeping those black hands from where they really wanted to be.

“I… I promise I’ll be good Blue! Oh Primus I promise! Please let me touch!”

Bluestreak licked a stripe of wetness up an audial horn before biting gently. Sideswipe was shaking, his whole frame trembling with restraint as the gunner moved languorously up and down, doorwings flicking in time with the gentle movement of his chassis, the front end of his alt mode bouncing lightly with each drop.

“How long Sides, you know how this goes. How long can you be good?”

The sharp static and click of a resetting vocalizer told Bluestreak just how close the red twin was to losing control.

“I’ll give you a week if you can get Prowl in, a month if both Prowl and Smokey comeAAAHHhhhh!”

Another laugh and whisper once again up next to an over sensitized audial.

“Deal Sides.”

That was the signal Sideswipe had been waiting for. His hands flew to Bluestreak’s doorwings and ran worshipful fingers down them. Manipulating the doorhandles and stroking the fabric on the inside with a reverence that would have surprised Bluestreak had he not already been the focus of it. He felt his own overload rise as those hands pinched and stroked, caressed and touched. 

Sideswipe had been on the edge and Bluestreak’s cries of pleasure from his diligent ministrations pushed him over the edge with barely a thought. Black fingers dug into the doorwing joints as his whole body tightened up, gush after gush of transfluid spurting into Bluestreak’s clenching valve as the dual sensation pushed the gunner into his own overload.

The warrior resumed his petting, sending Bluestreak into a series of pulsing aftershocks, each one wringing a gasping sound of pleasure from the Datsun’s vocalizer. 

When they finally just lay collapsed on the berth a purr rumbled through the sniper’s body.

“Good boy, Sideswipe. Good boy.”


End file.
